I'm Not Wearing That
by Malfoyesque Tendencies
Summary: "I'm not wearing whatever it is." "Oh yes you are," Harry was now teasing him, eyes glinting with the thought of Malfoy wearing a big, bulky knitted jumper. "You have to, it's law; at least once, for Molly." "Not even a slight chance Potter." WARNING: MATURE GRAPHIC CONTENT ;D


Draco hesitated. "What the hell is that, Potter?"

Harry looked up from his position on the end of the bed, halfway through unwrapping a suspiciously flat, hard, Hermione-esque gift. "Uh, I believe they're called _presents_, Malfoy."

Draco glared; sleep still heavy in his head as he shifted closer to the bottom of the four-poster bed he shared with the Gryffindor. "It's too early to be a sarcastic twat; I'm talking about _that_ thing." He pointed to a squashy, haphazardly shaped parcel in his own pile of Christmas gifts.

"Oh," Harry stared at the present, recognizing the familiar wrapping paper and softness as he picked it up, "it must be a present from Mrs. Weasley! She sends me one every year." Harry added at the look of distaste creeping onto his lover's face, "It's just a sweater Malfoy calm down. It means she accepts you."

"I didn't _ask_ for her to bloody accept me," Draco felt his temper rising and he pushed himself hautily out of bed. "I don't _need _her ruddy permission to date the Boy Wonder."

"Draco," Harry's tone was low and calm, and a tad icy; the way it always was when the blonde began getting into a stubborn rage. "Calm down, it isn't anything like that."

The older man stood in front of the couple's wardrobe, clad only in his grey pyjama bottoms with his arms folded over his chest. "I've never received anything from her before."

"Draco this is our first Christmas as a couple," Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yeah but I've only met her like twice since we've been together!" He was pulling at straws now, unsure of why he was even arguing.

"I knew her for all of five minutes before I hopped onto the Hogwarts Express and I got a parcel that following December. Sit down you look silly just standing there all huffy."

"I do not look _huffy_," the blonde glared, "Malfoy's do not _huff."_

Harry grinned despite himself, "well this one is doing a mighty fine job of being a total huffy, pouty, little brat. Now get back here." The blonde's eyes narrowed as he mentally debated which way to go about Harry's insult. He could either give up, or flare up even more; the idea or ruining his first Christmas morning with his boyfriend of eight months didn't seem too appealing however.

"Oh, shut up," Draco conceded and flopped back down on the black duvet, his arms still folded in front of him. Harry handed him the package from Mrs. Weasley and rummaged through his modestly large pile to pluck out a similar parcel with his own name scrawled across the front. Draco rolled his around in his hands, unimpressed.

"See?" Harry waved it around, "it's always the same thing, a hand knitted jumper."

"How tacky," Draco screwed up his nose.

Harry just laughed, "I would be inclined to chide you, if it wasn't that Ron says the exact same thing as well."

Draco's face soured even more at the thought of saying anything remotely akin to the Weasel.

"Oh lighten up, it's Christmas!" Harry grinned lopsidedly and threw a stuffed hippogriff that he had just pulled out of an ugly brown bag from Hagrid at Draco. It bounced off his shoulder and landed between the blonde's legs. Draco stared down at it and, rolling his eyes, unfolded his arms.

"Fine, but I'm not wearing whatever it is."

"Oh yes you are," Harry was now teasing him, eyes glinting with the thought of Malfoy wearing a big, bulky knitted jumper. "You have to, it's law; at least once, for Molly."

"Not even a slight chance Potter."

"We'll see about that," he shrugged and turned his attention back to his presents. He unwrapped Molly's gift, predictably a jumper, black with a proud stag stitched into the front. Harry's heart gave a little tug of affection for the woman and slipped it over his head before opening a large box from Neville that turned out to be a miniature indoor garden kit, complete with pygmy gnomes, and a packet full of all sorts of mischievous looking bottles and devices from George.

"Nice sweater Harry," Draco smirked, his real opinion obvious in one raised eyebrow.

Harry let the comment slide, expecting nothing less from his sarcastic lover. "Go on then, let's see yours."

Draco sighed, finally tearing open the paper and unfolding a dark green sweater. There was nothing embellished on the front of it, but the subtle pattern of stitches made up for the lack of image. It was exceptionally fuzzy. Draco's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, "You want me to wear _this?_"

"It's not even that bad!" Harry quickly interjected, "honestly, she's gotten so much better over the years; they're a lot less… unflattering these days."

Draco felt the corner of his eye twitch in annoyance, "it's horrid. It's fuzzy! I am _not_ putting that on."

Harry's hands dropped to the duvet, leaning in close and pouting up from underneath his eyelashes. "Please Draco, for me?" One finger drew small circles on the blonde's thigh suggestively.

"That won't work on me and you know it you berk."

A cheeky grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, spoiling the charade. "Ok fine. I can't force you to wear it," Harry shrugged, "but you're the one who will be left out at dinner."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, did I forget to tell you?" Harry's voice was the epitome of pretence, "We're having dinner with the Weasley's tonight."

Draco's face dropped. "And you just decided to accept this invitation without asking me first?"

"Mrs. Weasley is as close as a mother as I have ever had Malfoy, so you can either suck it up and come with me, or stay at home by yourself; but I've given Kreecher the day off so don't except him to make you anything." Harry's tone sharpened slightly and he moved to get off the bed. Draco caught him by the sleeve of his jumper and he turned to look down at his boyfriend, no longer interested in the conversation.

"What now?"

Draco let go of the black fabric and glared sideways. "Fine," he breathed out apprehensively, "I'll wear the stupid thing."

* * *

Draco pulled at the edge of his sweater, feeling ridiculous. _There is no way I'm going out in this._

"Draco?" Harry's voice carried in from behind the closed bathroom door. "Are you ready yet? We're going to be late."

"Err…" the blonde's voice trailed off slowly, his eyes trying to smooth over the cloud of fuzz on the jumper encasing his slim figure. His head whipped around and he barked as the door cracked open, "Merlin Potter! Can't you knock?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "yeah because I've never seen you naked before, honestly Draco you act like we don't even live together sometimes."

"It's just common decency okay," Draco snapped, then immediately felt uncomfortable as the younger man's eyes travelled over his form. "Don't stare either, it's rude." He covered himself with his arms in a vain attempt to hide from the emerald gaze.

"You look," Harry paused thoughtfully, then finished with a supressed grin, " _cute." _He ducked just in time to have a bottle of cologne skim the tips of his hair and smash on the wall behind him.

"Oh come on now," he laughed, flicking his wrist and muttering 'repairo' under his breath at the broken glass.

"Don't patronise me Potter, I look like a fucking troll," Draco scowled at his reflection again, tugging the shoulders this way and that, hoping it would sit nicer if he did so.

"No way," was his boyfriends reply, "trolls don't drool as much."

Grey eyes slid dangerously slow to meet green. "Excuse me?" it wasn't a question, it was a dare to repeat the comment.

"Have you _seen_ how you leave my chest when you wake up in the morning?" Harry couldn't suppress his laughter and made a hurried dash for the stairwell as the older man pounced forward.

"_Get back here, Scarhead!"_ Draco yelled, chasing dark hair down the hallway. "I'll show you _exactly _what I can leave on your chest if you really want!"

Harry stopped, his hand on the handrail of the top step, "and what would that be exactly?"

He didn't have time to consider the innuendo suddenly in the back of his mind as a flash of white and green lunged at him and caught him by the collar. His footing slipped and he yelped, the pair of them crashing halfway down the flight of stairs.

"Draco!" Harry gasped, his head smacking back against the wall; his leg caught underneath himself at an odd angle. A sharp pain shot from his knee. "Fuck, are you crazy! You could have killed us!"

"Take it back!" Draco moved to straddle Harry properly, pulling him up by the grip he still had on the black jumper.

"Okay, okay, I take it back," Harry's hands flew up in mercy, "Jeez Draco, take a joke!" The hand on his sweater relaxed, then pushed at him as Draco let go.

"It's not funny," a small pout emerged onto the pale, frowning face, eyes lowering as he crossed his arms.

Harry shifted, propping himself up on the wall, "it is a little bit –_what it's cute!"_ he quickly added as he found himself on the end of another glare.

"Stop calling me cute."

"Only when you stop being cute."

"You're so stubborn."

"_You're _so sensitive."

"I swear Harry James Potter; keep pulling out these unflattering adjectives and you're going to find yourself with more than just a bump on the head." Draco stood up, reluctantly holding out his hand to help the mess of limbs underneath him stand as well.

"I'm allowed to use them Draco, it's called boyfriend privileges," Harry grinned up at the taller man, and yanked Draco forward so that their lips met. The kiss was rough and angry; Draco pushed him against the wall and shoved his tongue inside his lover's mouth. Harry groaned into the kiss and his hands found the waistband of Draco's trousers. He tugged at the belt loops, desperate for more contact. As Draco's groin pressed into Harry's, he pulled his face away just far enough to stare into the darkening green eyes.

"This is boyfriend privileges too, is it?"

"What?" asked Harry, his mind becoming unfocussed as the feel of Draco's slowly hardening member rubbed against his own.

"Making me angry and then expecting me to kiss you."

"You always get horny when you're mad at me."

It was true, whenever they fought, Draco would find his cock twitching as blood began rushing down to it. Maybe it was because their first sexual encounter was the product of a fist fight or maybe because angry make-up sex was just so good; Draco wasn't sure, but at that moment he didn't really care either.

"Shut up." It was a weak comeback, but the following kiss was hard enough to bruise and Draco felt that would suffice instead. His hand wrapped around the back of Harry's neck, drawing him closer while the other travelled down to yank at the belt fastening of Harry's pants. Harry's hands crept up underneath the green monstrosity of a jumper, revelling in the feel of Draco's flushed skin as excitement coursed through his body and set the small hairs on his arms and neck on end. Draco paused, letting go of the now-open pants and reached for the bottom of his jumper to lift it over his head.

"No, wait," Harry's voice stopped him, "leave it on."

A white-blonde eyebrow shot up, "you have got to be kidding."

"Just leave it," Harry grinned and dragged the grey slacks down Draco's hips. He wasn't disappointed; the older wizard never wore underwear and his hard length sprang up proudly from a soft tuft of blonde curls.

"Mmm, fine have it your way then," Draco groaned, letting go of the jumper and grabbing Harry by the shoulders, "just suck me off."

Harry submitted, allowing his lover to guide his face toward his crotch. He kneeled awkwardly with both legs squashed together on one stair lower than the one Draco was standing on. He licked the drop of precum off the tip of Draco's cock and tasted the salty sweetness before swallowing as much length as he could into his mouth. The sounds escaping his lover's lips urged him on, supressing his gag reflex and taking him deeper.

"Fuck, Harry," Draco gasped as the head of his cock pushed past the threshold of Harry's throat. Harry hummed around the thick flesh and raised a hand to pull gently on the blonde testicles. He moved his mouth up and down slowly, allowing Draco's erection to slide out and back into the wet confines while his free hand pushed the woollen clothing up out of the way. Long fingers curled around dark hair, assisting the bobbing head and Draco's own head fell back, eyes fluttering. "Shit, no one sucks a dick like you can, baby."

Before the familiar feeling of his balls tightening overcame him, Draco yanked Harry back up onto his feet. The dark-haired man stumbled slightly, falling back one stair as the strong arms turned him around and pushed him roughly up against the wall. He slid down the brown pants still dangling open down to Harry's knees and offered two fingers to pink lips. Harry took his fingers without a word, running his tongue up and down and around the long digits and coating them thickly with saliva. In seconds they were pressed against his backside, first one and then both sliding into his already relaxed entrance. Draco leaned in and licked the shell of his lover's ear as Harry moaned into the pastel blue wall paint.

"Oh, right there," Harry bucked back into Draco's hand as he brushed against that sweet spot inside of him. He wiggled his fingers once more then retracted them, earning a groan of small protest from Harry; but only momentarily as the head of Draco's prick was pressed against him, teasingly, making his breathe hitch in anticipation.

"Don't be a cunt," Harry whined, pushing his hips back against the blonde. Draco allowed the motion, helping by thrusting up, hard. Harry's eyes clenched as he slid to the hilt, adjusting to the familiar feeling of being so full. Draco waited for a few seconds before pulling out almost completely, then slamming back into him again, one hand bunching his black sweater to halfway up his back. Pleasure and pain coursed through Harry and he wriggled slightly, seeking the right position that made stars burst behind his eyelids. After a moment of failed attempts, Draco laughed quietly and adjusted himself and thrust forward.

'Oh shit!" Harry cried, knees nearly falling out underneath him as Draco hit his prostate. Draco smirked and kissed Harry's neck, grasping his hips forcefully and picking up rhythm. His breathing was hitched, cuss words stringing out of his pretty mouth like a natural born sailor and Harry groaned, pushing back against the blonde, only capable of forming incoherent moans.

Fingers curled themselves around Harry's neglected cock and began to match Draco's rhythm. Harry gasped, that wonderful feeling stirring rapidly in the pit of his stomach. He braced himself against the wall, bucking back against his lover. Slick white come shot out onto the wall; Draco was close behind, the muscle contractions giving him the precise amount of heat and pressure he needed for release and his hot come coated Harry's insides ad he cried out his lover's name into the dark messy hair.

Panting, Draco pulled out and turned Harry around to kiss him full on the mouth. "Merlin, I don't get sick of that."

"Come on Draco, we really _are _going to be late now," Harry grinned, pulling his wand out and muttering a cleaning charm over himself and the violated wall. Draco rolled his eyes, tucking himself into his pants and doing them up.

"Alright, alright," he turned and headed towards the fireplace.

Harry caught up to him and he reached over the blonde to take a handful of floo powder. "It's not so bad, wearing these jumpers now is it?"

"Fuck off Potter, no amount of sex is going to make these things anything less than hideous," Draco scowled as Harry's laughing face disappeared in a flash of green flame.


End file.
